Theseus finds him in a small fishing town in the north. The skies are constantly overcast, and the people that live there are invariably pale -- but he stands out among them even so, with skin so white that it's nearly translucent. The kid is clearly playing at being human, sitting in a diner with a pot of tea that's gone steadily cold. But Theseus isn't an idiot, and Newt would gut him if he didn't recognize the signs of a vampire, however unexpected it is to see one living amidst a muggle populace.
The kid's expression when Theseus walks up is cute -- even if it's affected and nothing at all like the unfocused stare that he'd worn just a half hour previous, before he'd realized that he was being watched. He blinks up at Theseus with wide, innocent eyes that make it impossible to judge how long he's been alive. It could be fifteen years as easily as it could be a hundred.
"May I join you?" Theseus asks.
A quick nervous bob of his head. An aborted flick of his fingers toward the seat across from him.
Theseus slumps down into the booth seat and splays his arms across the back -- casual, relaxed. The vampire's gaze flicks all across him, searching for something, and absolutely does not relax. They make quiet introductions.
"Percy," the vampire says. A diminutive rather than a proper name, Theseus thinks. It makes the vampire seem younger, and Theseus wonders if that's on purpose.
Idle small talk blossoms slowly between them. Percy has only been in town a short while, does not mention why, and does not bother making up a lie about visiting family. Theseus says that he's here on business, that he's hanging around to see the sights and be a tourist for a while. Percy's face twists into disbelief.
"This place doesn't bring in much fresh blood," Percy says. "I can't imagine what compelled you to stay."
"Oh I dunno," Theseus says, eyeing Percy speculatively. "There's a few interesting things. My brother would kill me if I passed up the opportunity to explore them a little."
Percy returns Theseus' look with one of his own. The poorly put upon innocent kid act has been dropped altogether. His gaze is cautiously assessing, and when Theseus allows him to look his fill without comment, it becomes hungry and so very very dark. If Theseus doubted that Percy was a vampire, that doubt would have been swept away in this instant.
"Would you like something to eat?" Theseus asks.
Percy's gaze sharpens, narrows down for a fraction of a second, but when Theseus blinks, Percy is shrugging politely. "Sure," he says.
"This place is crap though," Theseus says, earning himself a faintly amused smile. "Let's go back to mine."
Theseus's hotel room is small, but he's transfigured a stove in the corner by the window and pair of comfortable chairs around a round table. The majority of the room is occupied by the single sized bed along the far wall and the wash basin at its foot. Theseus deliberately shows his back to Percy as he stokes a fire to life in the stove. Half of him expects to be attacked on the spot, but the other half of him -- the part that scolds his fears in Newt's voice -- knows that Percy is as much a person as Theseus is.
Percy hovers near the doorway. Theseus can hear him snooping around quietly, footsteps shuffling across the wooden floors, and in the meantime, Theseus makes a show of boiling water for tea. Then, before he can second guess himself, he pulls out his wand, cuts himself across the arm, and lets the blood pool into the teacup. When it's full, he heals himself with another tap of his wand, turns, and sets the cup on the table.
Percy is absolutely still, standing as far away from Theseus as possible without actually leaving the room. His eyes are locked on the teacup, nostrils flaring, but he doesn't come forward to take it. "So, you know," he says instead, voice trembling just a little.
The vampire's voice has deepened a little -- no longer the higher, more youthful notes that had been used in their short conversation prior. Percy pushes his hair back from his face with a shaky hand. Theseus silently reassesses the age at which Percy must have been turned -- not fifteen, but perhaps a bit older. Seventeen, maybe.
"From the moment I saw you," Theseus confirms.
"And you still brought me back here?" Percy scolds him with a click of his tongue. "That was dangerous of you."
"If I thought you were dangerous, I wouldn't have offered you blood," Theseus argues. "Go ahead. You must be hungry."
Percy sucks on his teeth thoughtfully. "No thank you."
Theseus raises a brow. "It's not poisoned."
"I'd smell it if it were," Percy says. He slides forward, lightly touching the back of one of the chairs with his hand. He doesn't sit, but he looks toward the bed. "I prefer drinking from the vein."
"Oh? I wouldn't think there'd be much difference."
Percy tilts his head and looks up at Theseus through his lashes. "Not for me, no. But for those I drink from, well... you're welcome to find out for yourself."
Theseus doesn't know what Percy is actually promising, but he knows what that look means. Newt's never made mention of this kind of trivia, but then he's still got his nose pressed into his textbooks back at Hogwarts. Newt doesn't have a young ageless vampire making insinuations in a voice as smooth as velvet.
Percy steps into Theseus's space, pushing into it, forcing Theseus to step back. His slender hand lays across the healed cut on Theseus's arm, and the touch is cool enough to raise goosebumps. His thumb slides over the red mark that remains.
"You had to cut deep to bleed enough for just a cup," Percy says. "It's healed, but it still hurts, doesn't it? I can feel the way it throbs under your skin."
Theseus swallows heavily, staring at the way Percy's lashes flutter like he's listening to something that Theseus can't hear. His heartbeat maybe. The sweeping rush of blood through his veins -- not just through his arm, but up to his face to feed the flush of his cheeks... and down, down to where he's getting hard despite himself.
Percy smiles just a little. "When I bite you, it won't hurt at all," he promises breathlessly. He pushes Theseus enough to knock him down onto the bed, and then he's climbing on, rising up over Theseus with a triumphant glow in his eyes and his fangs bared. "In fact, it will be the best feeling in the world."
There's barely enough time for Theseus to suck in a breath before Percy's ripped his shirt open and sunk his teeth into his throat. The pleasure is like a punch to the gut. It's sudden, ferocious . Fire floods into his veins and slides down to seize Theseus around his cock. Theseus curses -- or tries, but the bob of his throat around potential words just makes Percy clamp down harder with his jaw.
A fresh wave makes Theseus thrash for a handhold, something firm that he can hold himself to while his mind drowns with the desperate urge to fuck. He ends up with his hands at Percy's waist, with his fingers digging into powder soft skin and then into the hard muscle beneath. Percy is like a rock over him, immovable until Theseus makes a wanton, wordless plea. Then Percy loosens his stance, letting his body's weight pin Theseus completely.
There's just enough room for Theseus to squirm, to grind his needy cock against the body above him, and with every sucking pull at his throat, Theseus is just a little dizzier -- a little closer to the edge. He whines, hoping that Percy understands, and shivers violently at the responding hum against his neck. Percy drags a hand down Theseus's torso and pulls one of Theseus' legs over his hip, rolling his body in a single languid thrust as he takes a final hard drag from his jugular.
Theseus has never come so fast in his life, especially not in his pants. He feels boneless and weak afterward, murmuring softly as Percy laps at his throat to heal the wound and stop the bleeding. Shivers wrack Theseus' body, and after a quick clean up, Percy wraps him in the bed's heavy blanket. He even stokes the fire back to life and finishes off that tea that Theseus never got around to actually making.
"Drink it slowly and don't try to speak," Percy advices sternly as he wraps Theseus's hands around the teacup. He doesn't let go until he's sure that Theseus won't drop it. "Your throat will be sore for a while. Right now, it's important to stay warm. You'll be weak for a few days. If you like, I can stay while you recover."
Theseus stares, amazed.
Percy hovers, uncertain. "Or I could leave. You're a wizard. I'm sure you can handle it yourself."
Theseus catches Percy's hand before he can walk away. "No," he rasps. Merlin, his throat feels like it's on fire with just one word. "Stay."
Percy stops. "Okay," he agrees. Theseus doesn't let go until Percy sits next to him with a pleased sigh. "Just for a few days though."
Theseus leans into him, eyes drifting closed. He doesn't notice when Percy takes the empty teacup from his loose fingers. As he falls asleep, he thinks that Newt will be so excited to have something new to learn about vampires.